Fireside
by Mad Mab
Summary: James and Hartley sleeping by a fire while on the run.


**Author:** Scarlet-Arson

**Pairing:** Pied Piper/ Trickster

**Fandom:** Flash

**Prompt:** Reticent

**Word Count:** 813

Their fire was a burning ember in the dark vastness of silent, shifting sands. And they laid together for a semblance of warmth in the cold blackness.

James had been quiet for a while and, assuming he was asleep, Hartley snuggled closer to his back and wrapped an arm around him.

His eyes that had been drifting, finally shut. The hours before had been filled with anxiety and pain and sadness were gone with the sun. With the night, came calm and, though cold, comfort. There was peace in the silence of sleep.

_I'm cold._

Hartley's form grew ridged. He was a child caught stealing treats from the jar above the fridge. He reluctantly opened his eyes and shifted his arm and body away from James.

He retreated inward for a few moments to berate himself for his forwardness and for having been caught. And then he was on the offensive.

"You have no right to complain. You're closer to the fire than I am."

He had tried to say it with some smugness and a little arrogance, but it came out tired with just a bit of badly concealed embarrassment.

_You know that's not what I meant._

There was nothing to say to that. There couldn't be an, 'I know,' or 'What do you mean,' or 'What else could you mean,' because Hartley knew and wasn't going to admit it. He knew damn well that James knew that, too.

So, Hartley said nothing. He forced the lids of his eyes closed. He would allow nothing in and nothing out.

_Are you cold, Hart?_

Where his voice had been admonishing before, now dripped with concern. It fell on Hartley's deaf ears with an almost warmth of it's own, one that Hartley longed for.

_Hart?_

He shifted closer to James's body again, tangling a hand in his James's blue cape.

"No. I'm sleeping, Tricks."

He pulled the cape over himself. That was Hartley's punctuation at the end of their conversation.

_No, Hartley, I'm asleep. You're the one who's awake._

Annoyance tore through his sleepy veil. He only wanted to rest in peace without being brought back to consciousness by his chatty companion.

"I'm **not** cold. I'm tired and I'd like to go to **sleep**!"

He spit out through gritted teeth.

_I know you do, Hart. That's why I think you should lay closer to the fire._

The knowing tone kicked his annoyance into an angry overdrive. Hartley could feel the angry tears spilling out of his eyes.

"Please!"

He paused to chock on a quiet sob.

"I'm really, really tired and I just want to go to sleep!"

His sobs, no longer silent, echoed out across the expanse of the barren wasteland. He turned onto his stomach and buried his face in the sand to silence the sound.

_No, I don't want you to be cold. Move closer to the fire to keep warm and take a nap._

Hartley shook his head, burying his face deeper into the sand. He lifted his head back out of his misery.

"I don't want to! I don't want to! I don't want to!"

He shouted at James's back.

_If you don't, you're just going to regret it in the morning. So, stop being stupid._

He dropped his head back into the sand. He pushed his chin up only enough to mumble.

"I wouldn't regret it. I couldn't if I wanted to."

The words tasted like tears and wet sand in his mouth and felt just as horrible in the pit of his stomach.

_Then if you wouldn't, I would since I gave up so much for you._

Once more he had nothing to say. There weren't even words of anger or pleading that could be said.

_Don't be so ungrateful and move closer to the fire. Think of it as paying me back._

Hartley sniffled a few more times and let the last of his tears drift onto the muddy sand.

_Hartley, get up and lay closer to the fire. I really don't want to know I wasted myself on you._

Hartley maneuvered himself over and to James's front, closer to the fire. A bit of hard bitterness ate at him.

"Happy?"

If words could bite, that one alone would have bitten through the chain between them in a singular bite.

_You? I'm sure you're not, but if it makes you feel better you can hold my hand._

"Shut up."

It was spoken matter-of-factly not because he wasn't sick of this annoying game, but because he was just too tired to keep it up. Hartley reached between himself and James's front to pull the late Trickster's arm over him. It was almost like they were spooning.

_That's my boy._

"I told you to be quiet."

Hartley brought James's fingers to his lips and kissed them gently until his eyes fell back upon themselves.

_That's my best boy._


End file.
